


a safe place to land

by missymeggins



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missymeggins/pseuds/missymeggins
Summary: she doesn't relax into this new home as easily as she would like to
Comments: 16
Kudos: 72





	a safe place to land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FriendlyPhrack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyPhrack/gifts).



> for friendlyphrack who asked if i would write something about the beginning of jane and phryne's relationship.it's just a small exploration but i hope this satisfies!

“I’m not a nice girl,” she tells Miss Fisher. 

She feels compelled, almost duty bound, to confess it - sure that once heard the offer to stay will be retracted. She knows - has known deep down to the core of her for as long as she can remember - that there must be something very wrong with her because no one stays and no one has ever kept her safe. 

(The shame of that burns deep inside her because she doesn't yet know that it’s not her own to bear.)

But Miss Fisher tells her she’s just the kind of girl she likes so she thinks, for now at least, this is a safer place to stay than any of her other options. 

And she can leave any time she wants. 

Even so, she doesn’t relax into this new home as easily as she would like to. 

She can’t get comfortable in bed. It’s so soft and she’s so warm at night that there’s no need to curl her body into a tight ball for warmth but lying straight feels so foreign to her that she tosses and turns trying find sleep. 

And meals come with so many options that she doesn’t know where to start. Her first morning at Wardlow Mr Butler - kind as he is - tells her she can request anything she’d like but it’s been so long since she ate anything other than what was simply available that choice is overwhelming. 

Miss Fisher seems to notice her hesitation though and tells Mister Butler, “Just toast to start with I think Mr B.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for Miss Fisher’s powers of observation.

But she also wonders how she will ever fit in to this place, so unlike any home she has ever known. 

By the end of the first week she’s restless and she doesn’t know what to do about it. 

So she does the only thing that makes sense to her. She opens her window and begins to climb out. She’s one leg out, straddling the sill, when the door to her room opens.

“I’m surprised at you Jane!” Miss Fisher exclaims. 

Jane freezes as she tries to explain, “I’m sorry Miss Fisher, I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere I promise I just - ”

But she cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “Oh don’t be silly Jane, you can climb out the windows as much as you want, I just expected you to be a little better at it. You were making far too much noise with the window, I heard you straight away!” 

Jane is dumbfounded. “You’re not angry?” she whispers, gingerly climbing back in and sitting on her bed.

“Well were you planning on running away?” Miss Fisher asks as she comes to sit beside her. 

“No Miss. I just… sort of missed the feeling…” she trails off, unsure how to even sum up the complexity of her feelings and sure that someone like Miss Fisher couldn’t possibly understand the fear of being contained.

But the reply surprises her. 

(In time she’ll learn to expect that, love it even.) 

“Change is hard Jane, even when it’s good. It’s natural to return to the things we were once so very used to. And truth be told, even if you were truly trying escape me, I still wouldn’t be angry, only sad to lose you.”

Jane doesn’t know how to respond to that, in part because she doesn’t know whether it can be trusted, and in part because it makes her want to cry and she's afraid if she tries to speak she won’t be able to hold that in.

Miss Fisher’s voice drops lower, a pitch of sincerity, as she says carefully, “You are not bound here Jane, and you never will be. But you are _wanted_ and you always will be.”

Jane nods and Miss Fisher gently takes her hand. They sit in silence together a for a minute until Miss Fisher says, “Come. Mister B made a sponge and I can’t eat it all on my own.” 

A few days later Miss Fisher approaches her as she’s reading.

“Jane,” she says thoughtfully. “I wonder if you might help me with something?” 

“Of course Miss, anything,” Jane answers quickly.

“I need your assistance with a challenge of sorts,” Miss Fisher says carefully. 

“What sort of challenge?” she asks curiously.

“One that will help my hone my skills of observation. You see I find it quite essential in my line of work to be aware of even the tiniest details of a crime scene. What’s there, what’s not there, what looks out of place.” 

“I’m not sure how I can help with that Miss?” 

“Well you were, prior to coming to live with me, rather an accomplished pickpocket if I recall. And I was thinking, it might be a fun sort of game for you to use those skills to help my hone mine. You steal something from me, from any room of this house, and if I haven't spotted it’s absence within a week - you win. And I’ll learn that I need to work harder on my powers of observation.” 

Jane looks at her carefully, unsure what to make of this suggestion, a familiar feeling of suspicion rising in her. 

Miss Fisher recognises it and sighs. “It’s not a trap Jane.”

“I’m sorry Miss,” Jane says looking at the floor. “I didn’t mean to…I just…” she trails off.

“It’s quite alright Jane, it’s not important,” Miss Fisher says gently and leaves her to her book. 

But it weighs on her, this feeling that she’s failed a test somehow. 

She feels guilty for not trusting Miss Fisher and finds herself wanting to prove that she does. 

So she looks for something as worthless as possible - a hard thing to find in this house where everything is so beautiful - so that there’s no doubt at all she has no desire to actually steal anything for herself. 

In the end she settles on Inspector Robinson’s card, tucked beside a bottle of whiskey on the drinks trolley in the parlour.

She keeps it with her and waits.

It takes two nights for Miss Fisher to notice anything. 

She pauses at the drinks trolley as she pours herself a whiskey. 

“Is something wrong Miss?” Jane asks carefully. 

Miss Fisher shakes her head thoughtfully, “I’m not sure Jane. I just had the odd sense something was amiss but for the life of me I can’t put my finger on it.” 

“Perhaps it’s this Miss,” Jane says impishly as she holds out the Inspector's card. 

Miss Fisher’s eyes widen in recognition and for a brief moment Jane wonders if this was a mistake but then she gives a gleeful little clap as she exclaims, “Oh you are clever Jane!” with a blinding smile on her face. 

“See, I knew I needed you! I clearly have some skills to hone,” she continues with a playful wink.

It fills Jane with a warmth she hasn’t known until now. 

And so their game begins. 

She relishes returning her thefts to Miss Fisher because they are received with such delight, like they were expensive gifts - something Jane does not have the capacity to offer her but wishes she could. 

Instead she determines to make herself useful to Miss Fisher in any way she can because if she’s useful at least she might be worthy of this home she’s been given. 

Once or twice Dot or Mister B notice what’s missing first and make comment but Miss Fisher merely waves them off with a casual, “Oh I’m sure it will turn up!” and a sly grin at Jane. 

There’s something almost heady about sharing this secret and Jane can’t help but notice how easily she’s begun to smile since living at Wardlow. 

“You’ve very kind Jane,” Phryne says one evening as a cup of tea is set beside her, delivered not by Mister Butler but by Jane.

“It’s no trouble Miss,” she answers quickly, unused to the feel of gratitude and finding it altogether quite discomfiting. She moves to leave but Phryne reaches for hand, gripping it gently. 

“What I mean is - you may not be a nice girl Jane and that’s quite fine by me as I told you. You will have noticed by now I’m sure that ‘nice’ is not a quality I care much about. But I want you to know this about yourself - you are so very kind and that will always be a superior thing to be Jane.” 

“Yes miss,” she replies, more out of politeness than anything else but Phryne doesn’t let go of her hand yet or look away and Jane understands that Phryne wants her to truly hear these words and trust in their sincerity. 

“I’m very glad we found each other Jane,” Miss Fisher offers gently.

And for the first time in a long time Jane doesn’t feel afraid to tell the truth. 

“So am I Miss,” she breathes out with relief. It’s as though saying the words out loud has allowed her to actually feel the truth of them. 

“Now, off to bed I think Jane. You’re starting school next week and Aunt P will be furious with me if she thinks I’m letting you stay up til all hours of the night.”

Jane laughs, “I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with Aunt Prudence.” 

“Thank you,” Miss Fisher replies sincerely as she stands and presses a kiss to Jane’s hair. “Good night my love.” 

The words are spoken so casually and freely that Jane experiences for the first time what it feels like not to immediately question the truth of someone’s words. 

That night Jane doesn’t toss or turn in her bed and she opens her window only to enjoy the southerly breeze on a hot summer’s night. 

The next morning she greets Mister Butler with a smile and asks, “Omelette please Mister B?”

“With pleasure Miss Jane,” he answers warmly.

And for the first time in her life she is certain that she’s safe - that she’s home.


End file.
